Baracudas and Impalas
by Andi Darling
Summary: Ann had always been amazed how something so good could turn to complete crap, or be taken away so fast. And how little you had to loose when it came down to it... Damn, she needed a cigarette!
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It was another one of those nights. The nights where sleep evaded and the laptop and television screens glowed a little too brightly, and the pack of Marlboro 100's on the desk looked a little too tempting...

It was another one of those nights where people, places, and words exchanged the previous day buzzed inside of her head and in her ears like honey bees.

The scene from earlier that evening was especially bothersome. It was haunting her, the smells, the sights, the words…the threat she had made on his life…it was all too fresh – to vivid in her mind's eye for her to get any sleep. It was funny how some things you just couldn't shake. The things that stayed with you longer than anything else…

Dean Winchester was a pain in the ass. Nothing else described the man accurately enough. And the topping on the cake?...he had saved her life… Damn it!

* * *

**A/N:**

**Hey everyone,**

**so this is my first Supernatural fanfiction, so you guys will have to let me know from the prologue if it's worth continuing. I haven't written much in the last few years, so I'm a bit rusty; in other words, have patience with me.**

**Anyways, please feel free to review. I love reviews - they are great encourager's...Any constructive criticism, even flames are welcome! :D**

**Thanks,**

**Jayne Darling**


	2. Long Drive

**Chapter One**

"_**He is a hard man who is only just, and a sad one who is only wise."**_

_**-Voltaire**_

_2005_

Ann stared through bleary blue-green eyes at the monster that stood over her. She had taken a number to the back of her head, and the world around her was spinning. The room was dark, adding further confusion to her befuddled mind as she struggled to think through the haze of fog that was descending upon her.

"Davies!" She heard Tim call her name as she struggled to sit up leaning on her hand for support. Her fingers spread through something warm and sticky. The sticky substance smelled like iron she realized.

"Tim..?" She called for him and felt herself being lifted out of the sticky substance into strong arms supporting her back and underneath her legs.

"We gotta get out of here," She murmured as she leaned her head against her savior's shoulder. She was so tired; and the fog seemed so cool in the heat of the summer, the gray and black colors seemed so comforting as she started to slip into it.

"Ann!" She heard her name distantly as her eyes slipped closed. And then the arms beneath her disappeared and she was falling. Ann landed on something hard, her head knocking back against the hard surface as she landed, something heavy landing on her stomach. But she didn't care anymore. The fog had almost entirely engulfed her now, and she wasn't going to try to resist it anymore.

~&~&~&~

_2009_

Ann pressed a hand to her mouth as she yawned tiredly. Her eyes bleared for a moment making the windshield in front of her hazy and slightly out of focus as her eyes watered. The wind shield wipers moved at their highest speed. _Whip-whap, whip-whap;_ they were barely making a dent in reducing the amount of water that was pounding against the windshield of Ann's baracuda.

"Damn, it's late." Her passenger managed past a yawn.

"Tell me about it." She said, absently pushing play on the stereo. Bob Dylan's 'Like a Rolling Stone' came through the speakers.

"Bob Dylan…Seriously?" Tim questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Hey, driver, which would be me, picks the music; which includes genre, decade, etc., etc. And passenger, which would be you, shuts his pie-hole or gets to walk to the next town." Ann glanced at her friend just in time to see him roll his eyes.

"Wow, someone's in the happy time of their month." He intoned, slumping down in his seat resting his head against the neck rest.

"Shut up, Timothy."

"Love you too, Ann."

Ann shook her head and turned her attention back to the road in front of her…or at least what there was to see. It had been raining heavily for two days now, through Oregon and most of Washington State, and the water levels were getting deep in most places. At times she had to back-track through to another road to avoid getting washed into a ditch by the raising water…

"Hey Ann," She was torn out of her revere and turned her attention to focus on the young man next to her.

"Yeah?" She asked, stifling a yawn.

"You know I could always drive if you're getting tired." He offered, it was a nice gesture, and she would have gladly taken him up on it if it weren't for the fact he had done most of the driving that day.

"No, I'm fine. Besides, I have better reflexes then you." The last part was a lie. He was the one that had the better reflexes despite his vision problem…

"What? Think a one-eyed man can't steer this baracuda?" He joked light heartedly. Ann forced a smile; she didn't like it when he joked about his eye like that. She knew that he was trying to make her feel better, but the attempt was backfiring miserably. It was her fault he had to wear that stupid eye patch in the first place, and while he didn't blame her for what had happened; she felt responsible all the same.

"No, I don't trust anyone with my car when they've had only 4 hours of sleep in the last 48 hours. Now catch some ZZZ's, hunter. We've got a case to hit in Montana!" She shot a good natured smirk in his direction before turning her attention back to the road and turning up Bob Dylan, putting an effective end to the conversation as Tim rolled his eye and slumped down in the passenger seat.

It was going to be one hell of a long drive.


	3. Cruel Grin

**Chapter Two**

"_**His fist is big, but my gun's bigger…He'll find out when I pull the trigger."**_

_**-Miranda Lambert "Gunpowder and Lead"**_

_January 8__th__, 2009_

Angela Martinez breathed a silent sigh of relief as she crouched on the ground behind the boxes and trashcans in the ally way behind Mickey's Sandwich Shop in Helena, Montana. The ground of the ally was wet and the air was permeated with various unpleasant odors. The one that stuck to the forefront was the undeniable smell of death and decay. Angela placed a hand over her mouth at the sight of the dead cat that was rotting beside her.

She shut her eyes tightly, hand clamped tightly over her mouth and nose, listening intently for anything out of place, anything that could alert her to her stalker. There was nothing.

_'You can't hide here forever. You have to look sometime…' _A voice inside her head whispered. The voice was right, she couldn't stay here forever or she'd end up like the poor stray beside her.

Angie opened one eye and then the next, looking from her left to her right slowly, cautiously. Moving her hand from her mouth she turned and dropped to her hands and knees, crawling slowly towards the exit of her hiding place.

_Cluunk; _Angie froze, a hand instinctively going towards the rosary around her neck. She couldn't move, she felt like she was paralyzed; breath seemed to catch in her throat, and she was afraid to look. _'Look up.' _The voice in her head encouraged quietly.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, she froze, looking straight into the face of her stalker. A long cruel grin stretched across a pale face, "You're it." The words smelled of sulfur. It was to be the last thing Angie Martinez would see, and the last words she would hear.

A blood curdling scream pierced the frigid night air. And then there was silence.

* * *

When the Plymouth Baracuda finally pulled into the parking lot of the only Motel 6 in Helena Montana it was late, and it was all Ann could do to pull herself out of the car. She was very tempted to just put the seat back and fall asleep, but Tim would hear none of it.

She finally gave up trying to argue with him and allowed him to guide her to the motel's front desk. Half way across the parking lot she stumbled a little over a rock, "Damn," she muttered underneath her breath.

"Okay, that's it." Tim said, coming up behind her and sweeping her off her feet.

"Tim! What the hell?! Put me down!" She kicked her legs and squirmed in his arms as he carried her bridal style across the parking lot.

"If I put you down we might never get inside. And quite frankly Ann, I would love to go to bed in an _actual _bed complete with mattress, sheets, pillows and blankets. And if you walk I might never get to accomplish that dream."

"That's not funny." Ann deadpanned.

"No it's not; which is why I am not going to put you down."

Ann glared at him, but quite frankly she was much too tired to care anymore. She had driven most of the way, and she was ready to drop. She stopped struggling, and Tim smirked triumphantly.

"Remind me to kick your ass tomorrow night after I wake up."

* * *

Ann sipped her caramel colored coffee slowly, savoring the taste as she glanced around the packed diner. There were all kinds of people, mostly townies, but some tourists. They were easy to spot with their maps and kids, and burnt faces.

She glanced at Tim with his beat up looking, old Mariners hat pulled down over his eyes. The black t-shirt he wore had worn edges around the neck and sleeves, his worn leather jacket he had been wearing this morning discarded on the bench beside him. He looked the part of a townie. He blended in with the crowd, the only exception being the black eye patch that covered the socket where his missing eye should have been.

Tim wasn't a bad looking man by any standards; his hair was black and cropped short. His eyes were a celery green color; and he had a strong jaw line that was usually covered in a five o'clock shadow. A crooked smile could usually be seen playing at the corner of his mouth.

Tim glanced up at her, and she realized that he had caught her staring at him. The crooked smile was playing at the corners of his lips, "What? Do I have something on my face?" He joked.

Ann rolled her eyes, "Nothing out of the usual I suppose."

Tim chuckled before turning his eyes back to the paper in front of him. He was reading about the newest in a string of attacks.

"Anything?" Ann asked after a few moments of silence, sipping her coffee as she scanned the diner again; she was people-watching.

"Nothing that we haven't heard before; young girl's body found throat slashed and eyes taken." Tim replied, folding the paper back into its original form before rolling it into a scroll.

"That's helpful…Library than? Or do you want to split up?"

"You're not getting out of research."

"Dude, what the heck; I am not trying to get out research."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Says the con," Ann shot back.

"Says the thief."

"Whatever."


	4. Smoking

**Chapter Three**

Dean Winchester leaned his head back against the leather seat of his '67 impala. The night before he had drove straight through two states just to get to the town in Montana where some suspicious killings were going down. It had been a long drive, and Sam had slept most of the way while Dean stopped every now and then to pick up an energy drink or a cup of coffee.

It had been three days since their last hunt, which hadn't ended too well. Sam had gotten banged up a bit, and in the end had walked away with a broken wrist and Dean had walked away with another dislocated shoulder; _"Oh, the wages of war." _A bitter smirk crossed Dean's lips, shaking his head; he focused on the road ahead of him.

The sign welcoming them to the state of Montana flew by them along with another dozen or so bare fields in the dark.

"Hell-o, Montana."

* * *

"Smoking, huh? You must be stewing over something."

Ann glanced at Tim; hat pulled low over his eyes and a nonchalant grin on his lips. He always had a nonchalant grin on his face.

"Yep," She blew smoke out through her nose. "I can't get a handle on this case. And each day we turn over a rock that has nothing underneath it, this son of a bitch, whatever the hell it is, could be out there killing another innocent."

"We'll get it." Tim tried to assure her.

"How can you be so sure?"

"We always do, Ann. Just because we haven't come across anything new yet doesn't mean we're not going to come out on top."

Ann breathed in another lung full of smoke, exhaling she threw the cigarette on the ground. "You're right." She ground the glowing end of the butt with the toe of her boot.

"I'm going to quit one of these days." Ann looked up at him, a piece of her hair falling loose from the short ponytail she kept her hair in.

Tim reached up and twisted the strand back into place, a smirk at the corner of his mouth, "You should, because I kinda want to keep you around awhile."

* * *

"Sammy," Dean reached over and shook his brother's shoulder in an attempt to wake him up as they pulled into the parking lot of the local Motel 6. Sam let out a snort and turned his body away from Dean, his breathing deep and even.

"SAM!" Sam's eyes shot open and he jumped a little, brown eyes wide and breathing fast.

"God, Dean! What the hell?" Sam leaned his head back against the black leather seat behind his head; rolling his eyes he wiped a hand down his face in frustration.

Dean chuckled a little at his brother's reaction as Sam looked darkly at him. "We're here." He said simply; Sam rolled his eyes and opened his door, mumbling something that sounded like "jerk". He slammed it shut behind him and started for the Motel's lobby.

Dean smirked and leaned his head back, closing his eyes… Man, did he need to catch himself some ZZZ's.

A car rumbled into the parking lot and pulled into the space next to the Impala. The engine of the other car purred before cutting out as the engine was shut off.

Dean couldn't help but open his eyes for a moment to see what kind of car had emitted a sound like that.

It was a beautiful classic 1970 Plymouth Baracuda; she was painted a shiny cherry red and was obviously well taken care of. Dean could practically feel the drool pooling in his mouth.

As he continued to stare at the classic baracuda the driver and passenger opened their doors, the side closest to him was the passenger; a tall man with an eye patch over one eye, and a baseball hat pulled low over his eyes; he wore a leather jacket with the collar turned up.

To Dean's surprise the driver was a woman, she was short and had an average build. The woman had short brown and blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck while shorter layers framed her face nicely. She wore tighter blue jeans that had holes in the knees and biker boots on her feet. A flannel shirt that was too big for her hung on her frame loosely, and a white wife beater underneath revealed a toned stomach.

She was hot, Dean thought; a smirk on his lips and an eyebrow quirking as he watched her walk away.

The girl suddenly looked behind her, sensing his lingering eyes. He flashed his best smile at her; and she rolled her eyes and turned back around and went on her way towards whatever her destination was…

* * *

**A/N:**

Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews, and I hope you guys enjoyed the latest chapter. Sorry this one wasn't very long...the next one should be much longer...

The new one should be posted within the next week or so...

Please remember to review. Reviews are very encouraging!

~Jayne


	5. Theories

**Chapter Four**

"Another one this morning," Dean tossed the paper on the table in front of Sam. "Girl; slashed neck, eyes gouged out. The cops think it's some serial killer armed with a steak knife and a grapefruit spoon."

Sam took a drink from his coffee as he scanned the article. Putting the steaming cup down on the tabletop, he studied the picture of the girl on the front page.

Her name had been Darcy Baker, age 21; she'd been a blue eyed brunette. Local bartender; she had been a favorite of her customers. Not an enemy in the world.

"What's the connection between Angela Martinez and Darcy Baker? Different jobs; lived on opposite ends of town; didn't run in the same circles at all. What's the connection?"

"That's what we're here to find out, Sammy." Dean picked up his coffee and leaned back in his seat; his eyes scanning the diner until they came to rest upon the girl he'd seen the night before outside the hotel.

"Hey, there's that girl from last night;" Dean watched as the girl and the man that had been with her the other night talked over pancakes at a table towards the front of the diner.

"You mean the one who blew you off?" Sam glanced over his shoulder at the brunette. "She's taken. Get over it."

"Say's you." Dean smirked confidently at his brother before Sam went back to talking about the case and effectively ending the conversation.

* * *

Ann glanced up from the paper she had been reading as Tim pulled the chair across from her out and sat down; setting a Starbucks in front of her as he got comfortable and grabbed a menu.

Ann snatched the drink, a smile on her face. "Oh thank God. Tim, have I ever told you how much I love you? Really, you are a god among men."

Tim grinned at her, "It was the least I could do. It was either this or a pack of cigarettes; and I'm not condoning that habit so…"

"You're feeding my other vice." Ann grinned at him, sipping the brew slowly.

"So, another one this morning?" Tim nodded at the paper on the table.

"Yep."

"No seeming connection to the other victim?"

"Nope."

"You gonna answer everything with one word?"

"I'm thinking." Ann tapped a finger against her temple as she rested her head in her hand. "What did the Martinez girl do for a living?"

"Bag girl at the local minimart, why?" Tim set his menu aside.

"Huh."

"What?"

"I guess it's nothing. I thought it might have been the Evil Eye, but the Evil Eye doesn't go around gouging people's eyes out." Ann dismissed the guess with a flick of her hand; turning her attention back to her Starbucks.

"Maybe; or maybe it's something else." Tim suggested suddenly, pulling his napkin out from underneath his silverware; he patted his jacket pockets looking for a pen before he found one in the right breast pocket of his plaid shirt.

"What did Angela Martinez look like?" Tim asked her, although she could see by the look on his face it was a rhetorical question.

"Uh," Ann's brow crinkled with concentration, "brunette, average build; blue eyes."

"And Darcy was an average built brunette with blue eyes."

"Do you think it's just a serial killer?"

"Sure, if that serial killer leaves ectoplasm behind and burns marks into the eye sockets of their victims." Tim glanced up from his notes for a moment before pulling a file from the bag he had been carrying.

"You finally got the coroner's report on Martinez?" Ann asked, holding her hand out for the file. "And you let me ramble on about crap? Dude, your priorities are seriously screwed up."

"Yeah well, call me an optimist."

"Hmph," Ann grunted as she scanned the report. "A symbol," she pulled the picture from the paperclip that held it to the rest of the report. "Well isn't that something…" She murmured quietly. "I think I recognize this symbol."

"I thought it looked familiar too," Tim agreed.

"That's the Hand of Miriam." Ann stated, turning the picture toward Tim.

"What the hell is the Hand of Miriam doing burned into the socket of a dead girl?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"The Hand of Miriam is supposed to protect; used in warding off the Evil Eye. Some seriously pissed off; powerful spirit is killing innocent girls… Why? What's the point? There is no connection between the two girls besides the physical appearance. And what the hell is with the symbol?" Ann dropped the picture back into the file before tossing the file onto the table. Leaning back in her chair with a sigh, she brought the Starbucks to her lips, sipping thoughtfully.

"Why do I feel like we just got more answers, but are no closer to the truth than when we first started?"

**

* * *

**

**A/N:**

**Hey everyone! Thanks for all the reviews; I'm glad that y'all are enjoying it so far!**

**Please remember to review and tell me what you guys think.**

**~Jayne**


	6. Greasy Spoon

**A/N:**

**Hey everyone!!!**

**Thanks for all the great reviews! I'm glad that you're all enjoying it so far. **

**This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but I hit a bit of the writer's block... Anyways, the next chapter should be up soon. **

**So, enjoy and don't forget to review! **

**Thanks,**

**Jayne**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_August 5__th__, 2004_

"Are your eyes closed?"

"Yes," Ann heaved a heavy sigh; rolling her eyes behind her closed lids.

"Are you sure," Tim teased; his hand on Ann's shoulder's gently guiding her towards the surprise he had devised for her twenty-first birthday.

"Yes, I am completely sure. I should have a licensed dog and a cane. That's how securely closed my eyes are!" The words were laced with sarcasm, though whatever bite the rib had carried was completely lost on Tim.

"Alright," Tim lowered his head until it practically rested on her shoulder. "Open your eyes!"

* * *

_Brrringgg, bring, BRRRRINNNGGG;_ Ann's eyes flew open and she smacked the alarm on the bedside table; the electronic alarm fell to the floor, the speaker cover jarring loose, while a dial rolled across the moss green carpeting.

"Perfect," Ann muttered as the glowing numbers on the clock faded as it died from some injury it had suffered internally. "Crappy alarm," She muttered, picking the broken piece of technology off the floor and setting it gingerly back on the night stand. Something else to add on to the motel bill…

She shook her head, in an attempt to shake off the dream she had been having right up until the alarm had gone off. A faint, sad smile twisted across her lips as she remembered what day the dream had been about.

It had been her twenty-first birthday, the day she had gotten the Baracuda…

She shook her head again; there was no use in dwelling on the past. You couldn't change the past… No one could.

* * *

"God, it's early."

"Stop complaining."

"It's 7 o'clock in the frigging morning, Sam. What the hell do you want from me?" Dean grumbled. It was too early for research.

"It's not early. You're hung over." Sam replied, awkwardly flipping through the pages of the morning paper with one hand. There were no new victims; at least, none that had been found yet.

"Whatever." Dean muttered, sipping his black coffee. The greasy spoon they were currently dining in was the only one in town. It was a small place, the kind that gave a nod to fifties circa eateries. Hell, the waitress who was serving them had probably been working there since the place opened.

He continued nursing his coffee, and popped a pill for his headache; hazel colored eyes scanning the patrons for no particular reason. Dean liked to watch people; there were things you could learn about people just by watching them; making note of people's appearances and nervous ticks, habits that betrayed certain parts of their character to the outside world…

The bell over the diner's front door jingled, and Dean's eyes automatically flicked toward the door out of habit. The girl from the motel walked in, alone. Her dirty blonde hair was down and straight; bangs falling into blue-green eyes that were highlighted with brown underneath the bottom lash.

He watched her as she took a seat at the bar, taking off her brown leather jacket and laying it on the seat next to her; cowboy boot clad feet resting against the railing that encircled the pole of the chair. The girl glanced at the menu and made small talk with the waitress behind the counter while the women poured her a cup of coffee.

"I'll be right back," Dean set down his cup of coffee, and slid out of the booth.

Sam glanced up at him, brown eyes following the direction of his brother's gaze. "Come on, Dean. She's taken."

Dean glanced back at Sam, a cocky smirk pulling at the corner of his lips and eyebrow quirked in amusement. "I guess we'll just have to see about that, ah Sammy?" He grinned at his little brother, while Sam just shook his head and waved him off; turning back to his newspaper and their Dad's journal.

"It's your ass," he muttered as Dean walked away.


	7. Harris Quotes

**Chapter Six**

"_Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; _

_It is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable." –Sydney J. Harris_

The coffee swirled in the cup as she stirred in the creamer and sugar; changing the color from black to a warm caramel color that was sweet to the taste. Her father had used to compare it to drinking syrup, but Ann had never cared. He had drunk black coffee anyway, which was a whole other issue entirely…

God, it had been so long since she had heard his jokes, the teasing lilt to his tone while he ribbed her about one thing or another; while her mother would sigh and roll her eyes and tease the both of them for being so immature…

Ann shook her head, running her fingers through the thin strands of her hair. She tried to shake the cobwebs from her mind. She wanted to shake free the memories that became caught up in the tangled mass of spider's nests and laid wait for a free moment when her mind was less occupied with monsters and demons; and then her own monsters and demons would come from the darkest recesses of her mind, to drudge up the things of her nightmares...

"Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable." The quote tasted bitter on her tongue; Ann brought the cup of coffee in front of her to her lips, washing away the sour taste of regret.

"Sydney J. Harris, right?"

Ann glanced to her left, she immediately recognized the man from a few nights past; the engine of his black Impala had idled while penetrating hazel green eyes perused her figure from inside of the classic '67.

"Yeah," She nodded in affirmation. "Most people don't know 'im."

"I'm not most people," The man flashed a smile that was armed to kill.

Ann grinned back at him, quirking an eyebrow in response. "Obviously," She replied. This could be fun, she decided. After all, she hadn't been so blatantly stalked in awhile.

"So, do you make a habit of stalking women? Or is this a first time, right outta the gate type of thing?"

* * *

Dean smirked, the girl had spunk. She been surprised when he had known who Sydney Harris had been; hell, he'd been surprised. But he had read a piece or two of the former journalist, and some things just stuck with you, he supposed…

"First time," He replied easily to her question; his most charming smile in place. "I mean, can you blame me?"

"No… But I'm sure the cops could." Her voice had a lilt to it he couldn't place. Her smile was in place, but cobalt eyes warned him quietly that he was in dangerous waters… But, Dean had always liked danger.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Got one," Ann replied, lifting the coffee cup which her hands were tightly coiled around.

"Looks like it might need to be topped off," Dean could see she was tense. Her hands were holding that coffee cup so tight that anymore pressure and he was afraid it was going to shatter.

"Look pal-"

"Dean."

"Dean, I'm in town on a little business that requires my full attention; so if you don't mind," Ann let the sentence float between them, hoping that Mr. Charm, or Dean what's his name would catch the hint and take a long walk off a short pier.

"Well in that case Miss….?"

Ann rolled her eyes with a small frustrated sigh, "Ann."

"No last name?"

"None that I'm willing to give a stalker," She quipped dryly in reply.

"Have a nice day." Dean gave her a nod before churning and heading back to his booth.

Ann watched him go, a smirk briefly flashing across her lips before turning her attention back to her coffee. Well, he had been good looking...

* * *

**A/N:**

Hey everyone!

I'm sorry this chapter was so short, but the next one will be much longer. Now that Ann and Dean have met, things will start picking up pace.

I had a blast writing this chapter, and I hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know what you guys thought of the banter, Ann's biting remarks, etc...I love feedback!

Thanks,

Jayne


	8. Agents

**Chapter Seven**

_2004_

The hot summer sun beat down from overhead, warming the interior of the car as they drove north on the old highway; both windows down and the engine of the baracuda purring like tiger.

It was a beautiful day. The birds flew in the sky over head, their songs faint against the background of engine, music, and wind. The land was gold and blue sky for miles; the golden hued grass stretched for miles while tall trees loomed like giants in the distance. Crooked fencing on either side of the road was constructed to keep the cattle in that were grazing absently.

It was early August in eastern Washington, which meant it was as hot as hell. The thermometer reaching upwards of 95 and promising to get hotter as the day progressed.

But the couple in the classic didn't seem to mind, his arm stretched across the black leather seat so it almost skimmed her shoulder, though the girl was completely oblivious to it; she was enjoying the day. The wind blew through the window and tossed wheat colored flyaway locks to and fro, aviator shades high on the bridge of her nose covered lively blue green eyes. Her smile was crooked, and her laugh like music as the boy told a joke that amused her while Pat Benetar's 'Heartbreaker' blasted through the new stereo system.

Today was Anna-Lee Davies' twenty-first birthday, and so far the day had been spectacular. Little did she know how quickly things could change within a blink of an eye; or a simple curve in the road as the classic 1972 Baracuda pulled into the driveway of her family's ranch style house.

* * *

_2009_

Helena's library didn't have much in the way of newspapers. Not since the fire several years back, which was rather convenient in Dean's opinion; which left the research that they could dig around for in witnesses and computers.

Everyone they had talked to said that Baker and Martinez had been clean as a whistle, no enemies, no suspicious activities, behaviors; none of it. No one was that good. There had to be something they missed somewhere...

Dean ran a hand over his face, brows drawn together in concentration he peered at the laptop screen; the light illuminating his face in the dim hotel lighting.

'_There has to be something,' _He thought as he scanned through the article that had been in the local paper for the tenth time.

* * *

Sam Winchester sat stiffly on one of the thinly cushioned waiting room chairs in the coroner's office; waiting for the county coroner, Doctor Prady, to come out and meet him.

The office was painted in muted shades of gray and white; the chairs covered in the kind of fabric that was stain resistant and which cheap suits were made from. The carpeting was the only thing with any real color in the office, but even that was a dull imitation of the real thing.

Death was a very depressing business, Sam mused. He made brief eye contact with the receptionist, a middle age looking woman with mousy brown hair and a dead expression. Sam swallowed and gave the woman a small smile while the woman's flat brown eyes made contact with his. Sam almost felt like wilting a little under the older woman's expressionless glance; he looked for something else to occupy his attention while he waited. His eyes fell to the name plate on her desk beside her computer; _'Lily White… You've got to be kidding me.' _

Sam wasted no time in going back to his examination of the floor until the office door opened and an older man with graying black hair came out. He limped and leaned heavily on the black and silver cane he held. Sam stood to greet him, "Doctor Prady," He offered his hand to the older man, and rattled off his latest rock 'n' roll alias.

"It's a pleasure, Agent; but I already met with one of your associates this afternoon." Mr. Prady replied.

"I'm sorry Sir, but we have to ask you a few more questions."

After Sam had finished interviewing the aging coroner, he stood to leave with a copy of the official report in hand. "Thank you for your time, Doctor. Your help is much appreciated."

"It was my pleasure, Agent. Please give my regards to your associate, Miss Austen."

"Miss Austen, Sir?"

"Yes, the pretty young woman who visited me just before you dropped by; said her name was Agent Elizabeth Austen."

"Yes, sir, you'll have to forgive my memory. I know Agent Austen; I'll give her your regards..."

* * *

**A/N:**

Hey everyone!

I'm sorry that this chapter was also short - but, the next one WILL be longer! I promise!

I hope that y'all have been enjoying the twists and turns so far. Your reviews are so encouraging! They make me happy! :D

Anyways, please review and tell me your opinions on this chapter!

Thanks,

~Jayne


	9. Hell in a hand basket

**A/N: **Hey everyone!!!!!!!

I wanted to say that I am SOOOOOO sorry for the long wait for the next chapter! But, as we all know life happens; and to add on too that I had a huge writer's block...

This chapter might be a little shorter than previous ones - but I promise the next one will be coming soon!!!!! And I know it's taking a while to get around to the resolution of this case - but I promise that it is worth the wait!

Please read and review! I really enjoy hearing from all of you!

Sincerely,

Jayne

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

"Dean," Sam called as he entered the hotel room, shutting the door with a little too much force; he tossed his suit jacket on the nearest bed while loosening the tie around his neck.

"Yeah?" Dean called back, trying to refocus his eyes as they adjusted back to normal after staring at the computer screen too long.

"I think there's another hunter on the case."

"How do you know?"

"The coroner said that a young woman who told him she was an agent. An agent named Elizabeth Austen." Sam replied, sitting down on the chair across from Dean, and letting his long legs stretch out.

Dean shrugged, "So…?"

"Dean, you never read anything assigned in school, did you?" Sam asked, though he already knew the answer.

His brother merely shrugged in response, "Dude, I didn't do anything in school."

"Jane Austen was a famous classic author. She wrote 'Pride and Prejudice', 'Emma', and a lot of other books." Sam just shook his head while his brother smirked.

"I think I saw a porno named Pride and –"

"Please don't finish that sentence."

"Fine; so, what's the significance again?"

"Elizabeth was a main character in 'Pride and Prejudice'; a book that was authored by Jane Austen."

* * *

Just as the Winchester's were discussing the significance of her alias – Ann was reviewing the case file, notes she had taken while talking with the coroner, and any information she could find on the internet and the local library. The papers were strewn in a wide circle around her on the floor – having been categorized into separate, distinct piles.

The information ran through her mind a mile a minute while she processed. Tim liked to liken her to a super computer when she got in this mood – ear buds in and music turned up to deafening levels that blocked out any possible external noise; freed her mind to turn evidence over in her mind, over and over until she could find a match, a answer to the question in front of her.

_Ectoplasm = one powerful mother. But what would a gho- _her train of thought was interrupted by the movement of the door to the hotel room. The movement of Ann's hand was fast as she gripped the knife she kept in her belt and threw it at the door – the blade wedging itself deeply into the thin wood of the motel door. It was only after the knife had left her hand that she realized who had come through the door…

She yanked the buds from her ears, letting them fall to the floor as she stood. "Tim,"

Tim looked from the small woman to the knife in the door, "Why are you so edgy?"

"I'm sorry – I…it was reflex." The apology fell flat – but Tim didn't mind. Neither of them were very good at apologies to begin with.

"Thought I would bring you some coffee," Tim held out the Starbucks cup to her.

Ann smiled, taking the pro-offered cup. "Thanks…"

"No problem…I figured I should feed the Super Computer before she ran out of power…"

Ann grinned wider at him, giving him a hug that was meant to be purely friendly; but Tim's hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer against him.

She had to lean her head back to see his face, which is when it all went to hell…


	10. Author's Note!

Author's Note:

Hey everyone!!!

I know it has been MONTHS since I was even on fanfiction, and I am truly sorry for not updating at all...

So, the thing is that just before I was about to post the newest chapter - my computer melted down. It crashed and I lost everything. I had to replace the memory - it was bad... But, fortunately, they have the backup thing on here so I was able to salvage everything up until the newest chapter (which unfortunately has been lost to the computer gods...)

I swear that the new chapter will be up just as soon as I can get things back under control. Thanks for your patience! You guys are awesome!!!

Sincerely,

Jayne Darling


	11. Shrapnel

**A/N:**

**Hey everyone! Here is the new chapter - Ok, it's really a teaser chapter because it's so short. But the next one should be posted in the next couple days, and it will be MUCH, MUCH longer!!! Thanks for the reviews from everyone, you have all been very supportive. **

**Thanks again, and enjoy!**

**Sincerely,**

**Jayne**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

A scream pierced the frigid night air – the wail stabbed at Ann's heart as she jumped from Tim's arms and headed for the door. The walls were thin in the motel, and the cry sounded like it had come from a few rooms down the hall.

Ann charged for the room as another blood curdling cry came forth – Tim fast on her heels. The door was locked, but fists pounded on the thin wood from inside the room. Ann tried the knob desperately when Tim pushed her aside and rammed his shoulder and all his weight against the wood. It didn't budge.

"What the –" He muttered under his breath as he stepped back and tried again only to have the same result as before.

"Shit!"

"Get out of the way!" Ann yelled. The screams inside were getting more frantic, more hysterical, and higher as the woman clawed the other side of the hotel door.

She prayed to God that the woman had listened to her as she raised her handgun and fired a shot at the shiny bronze knob. The knob shattered, shrapnel sailing through the air from the force of the gunshot. But the door remained shut, as if it had been sealed with steal; though the hole where the knob had been gave a keyhole view into the room…

Tim backed up, and ran at the door, throwing his shoulder and every ounce of strength he had into the thin imitation wood. The door flew open this time –

and the sight was horrifying.


	12. Ruby Red

**A/N:**

**Hey everyone!!! **

**Here is the next chapter! Yay! Next chapter will be posted within the next day or so, or maybe sooner. Please review, reviews make me happy & full of joy and make me update sooner.**

**I have a deadline for this project, so I won't let myself go months without updating again. Hopefully, if all goes well, this story should be wrapped up by December 30th. **

**So, please review and tell me what you think - suggestions are welcome as well.**

**Thanks!**

**Sincerely,**

**Jayne**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

The girl screamed helplessly as the creature viciously yanked her by the ankle back to itself as she tried to scramble for the open door and the two hunters who stood just outside.

It had yanked her back with such force that there was an audible crack of bone as it flipped the girl onto her back; the girl's screams became a mixture of hysterical sobbing and terrified screams – screams that made Ann's blood run cold.

Tim didn't think before he jumped in – raising the shotgun, he had grabbed as they tore out of Ann's room; and leveling it, he let off a round of rock salt. The creature screamed and disappeared, black smoke swirling in the air in its wake.

Ann rushed to the girl, dropping to her knees, "Are you OK?" She said as she took the hysterical young woman by her shoulders and shook her a little to get her attention.

"WHERE IS IT?" She wailed, doe brown eyes wide and her face as white as paper; breath coming fast, and heart hammering away like a hummingbird's.

"I don't know; but we need to get you out of here."

Tim loaded another round while keeping a vigilant eye out for the bastard.

"What the hell was that?" Ann hissed as she helped the young woman to her feet, trying to support her as she balanced on one leg.

"I don't know." Tim replied, following Ann to the door as she led the hobbling victim away.

* * *

The creature waited. It laughed manically, waiting for the two women to leave the room before it attacked. A long, wide, grin stretched across it's face; and continued to stretch while long sharp teeth, like shark's teeth, extended and sharpened, glinting in the dim light of the room.

Eyes the color of rubies followed the man with the shotgun loaded with salt.

'_Eyes, eyes, the windows to the soul; how deep are you? How shallow are you? What do they say behind the patch? Do they burn?' _The creature chortled in a low, guttural voice. Smoke swirled out through the nostrils of the creature, the smoke smelling of brimstone and fire.

The door slammed with the force of a tornado, shaking the pictures on the walls; tremors running under the floor rocked Tim and knocked his feet out under him.

* * *

Dean heard the shrieks first; while Sam was the first one to hear the gunshots. Both of them tore out of their motel room at the same time, weapons in hand – heading for the sounds of the fight.

The sight before them as they rounded the corner made them pause, feet sliding from lack of friction of rubber on cement.

The two girls before them were both screaming, one shouting obscenities that made Sam blush, as she tried to ram her shoulder against the flimsy wood to break down the door; the other lay slumped against the rusted metal railing that surround the second floor landing.

The brothers looked once at each other before jumping into the pandemonium, Dean pushing the cursing woman away from the door before using the butt of his shotgun to beat on the wood, cracking and splintering it; and when he got tired of that and just started shooting.

Sam had scooped up the young woman and moved her out of the way of the line of fire.

'_Thank God the place is empty.' _Sam thought, as shots rang out and echoed off the walls.

* * *

Tim's breath was coming shallow as the creature moved towards him. He let off another round of rock salt, and the thing dispersed in smoke only to quickly reappear a few feet to the right of its original position.

It was truly hideous. Tim couldn't imagine this thing had ever been human – the smile it wore stretched from one ear to the other in a grotesque grin where razor sharp teeth extended and distended, glinting in the half light that came through the blinds on the windows. It stood at roughly Tim's own height, and while being lanky still managed to have a wiry sort of muscles that ran through the whole of its body. The skin was a muddy sort of ash color and pieces were missing in spots; ashy hair hung limp and wet from the skull where bits of bone showed through the holes in the skin, and the eyes that stared out through deep sockets were ruby red and flashed redder still like flames dancing in a dying fire.

The creature laughed then, and the eyes glowed brighter as it rubbed its long talons together while it anticipated the pleasure from the kill.

Tim noticed that one of the talons was grooved like a spoon; the rest were as sharp as any of his hunting knives on their best day.

"TIM!" Ann screamed from outside the door as she pounded and kicked and fired at the door separating them; but all her efforts made no impact. It must be magic, he thought. There was no other way to explain why or how such a piece of crap could withstand such abuse, but stood it did; barring the two partners from each other – and effectively trapping the young man inside with the monster that he had sought for so long… The bastard who had taken his eye and caused so much pain and anger.

_"I am going to finish you." _


	13. You and Me

**Chapter Eleven**

_**6 hours later**_

The diamond looked real enough, even in the bad light of the hospital room. The gem winked and sparkled as Ann moved her fingers. It should look real enough, Ann thought. Because it was; it had been Ann's mother's before she died… The band was plain white gold with a small cushion cut diamond in a solitaire setting... The ring was simple, but it could never have a price in Ann's eyes.

She held Tim's hand in hers, rubbing it between her fingers, smoothing her thumb over the match to her ring that had been her father's. Smooth, plain white gold…

Ann leaned over, bracing her elbows on her thighs; Tim's hand still in between the two of hers. Pressing her lips against the back of his hand, she leaned forward until her lips were next to his ear. She closed her eyes, and stayed there, resting her chin against his shoulder – just being there in the space of time when there were no monsters under the bed, and ghosts and goblins were just old wives tales; and there was just them…Tim and Anna-Lee.

"I'll be right back." She whispered softly, before squeezing his hand once more, and laying it gently down on the bed…

* * *

_**6 hours before**_

_**"TIM!" Ann screamed shoving the man out of her way while she tried to break down the door herself, finally pulling the gun out of her belt and firing at the door; reason lost in hysteria. **_

_**The scream that came from behind the door almost stopped her heart. It came again, louder, with pain driven in to every sound. "TIM!" She screamed, dropping the gun and going at the door with her fists. She'd heard that scream before…**_

_**Under her fists the door started to open, and then swung inward violently, slamming against the wall. The sight before Ann made her stop; she couldn't even feel her heart beat in the stillness and the silence she was locked in.**_

_**The monster stood over Tim's writhing form; its grooved talon moving away from Tim's face, dripping with blood. **_

"_**TIM!!!" She wailed, lunging forward toward the gruesome beast; with every intention to rip it apart with her bare hands at all costs. Just as she lunged, she felt two strong arms wrap around her middle and yank her back against a solid form. She writhed and screamed, kicking at her captor as the form drug her back from the door to the hotel room – a hand moved to cover her mouth to stifle her wails, soft words being whispered by her ear. She bit at the hand and drew blood – she spat the blood out and continued screaming, enraged at whoever had dared come between her and her dying partner. Another form moved in; the figure blurred as tears of anger filled her eyes, distorting her vision – making her angrier still for crying. She heard gunshots, and the guttural wail of the monster as rock salt came into contact with its target. **_

"_**Dean!" A voice shouted from inside of the room. Ann felt the arms around her loosen, and she bolted forward; and ran, dropping to her knees by Tim.**_

"_**Hey, you're going to be ok; you hear me Johnson?!" She demanded, gripping his free hand tightly. Shock had taken the place of pain, and he wasn't screaming any more... **_

"_**You and me Anna-Lee," he whispered hoarsely before drifting off into the darkness of unconsciousness. **_

* * *

A/N:

This chapter was supposed to be MUCH longer - but I kept warring with myself over what I should include - so I just decided to post it... Anyways, I know it's REALLY short; but I wanted to update to let everyone know that I AM still working on it, it's just taking MUCH longer than originally expected...lol

Anyway, don't forget to review!!!

Sincerely,

Jayne


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